


Of Ballads and Tempos, Of Time Gone By

by excessnight



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:35:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4918021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excessnight/pseuds/excessnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of memories, moments so fleeting and forgotten. Of fates and paths crossed, uncrossed; never taken and wondered upon. Of love and it's boundless pains. Words spoken, unwritten, and remembered. But generally, about Sam and Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Ballads and Tempos, Of Time Gone By

He could never get over the fact that he'd let him go. He let him go, walk right out of his life, and straight into her arms. Dean would never forgive himself.

The frost on the windshield crept up and across the glass. Gripping his attention and reminding him how alone he was. Just him and his Baby. With one final thought, he opened the driver's door and climbed out. He stuffed the keys into his pocket and pulled his jacket closer. It was cold. But then again, it was always cold.

He crossed the street as quickly as he could, but paused on the sidewalk, right at the end of the steps. There was ice creeping on the corners of the steps, threatening to spread out and take control of the concrete. The curtains were drawn but Dean could just see inside. See two shapes. A tall man that made his heart leap to see again, and a smaller woman, that made his chest ache at the sight of.

With his fading resolve, he pushed himself up the steps and without a second thought, rapped on the door. He heard a faint call and finally, a moment later the door pulled open.

There she was. Beautiful and radiant and smiling. And pregnant. _Jessica_. He couldn't help but stare, not at her, but at her unborn child. His mouth finally flapped open and, "Sorry, wrong house, have ah-"

"Dean," she said softly and Dean froze. Froze just like the ice on the sidewalk, on the steps. Like the frost on his windshield. "He's missed you," she whispered and his heart skipped. It raced, it jumped, it screamed. And it cried. Bloody rivers and long sobs. Sam didn't miss him. He had a beautiful wife and a child on the way. He, he didn't-

"Jess, who is it?"

And Dean almost turned and ran. He almost did but he didn't have time as Sam came into view, head not up to see who it was. "It's him."

At that, Sam's head snapped up and Dean felt like screaming. His eyes wide and scared. He wasn't sure he could handle it, not like this.

"Dean," he whispered and Jess turned to look at him. She looked so sad, so full of sorrow and suddenly so tired. But she smiled. Smiled softly at him and with so much love that Dean knew why he let Sam go. So he could love Jess.

"I'll be inside," she said as she moved passed her husband and back into the house. Dean felt frozen in place, one with the landscape. Lost and confused and suddenly so very aware that it was _him_ standing in front of him.

"I got the invite. Um, congrats. And a baby. Wow, man, I'm proud of you," Dean rambled out and gave a nervous laugh at the end, showing the edge he held. "I'm so proud of you."

"You never called," Sam said bluntly.

"Two way street, Sammy. You could have too," Dean said back, a little bit too snappish for his own tastes but it was much too late for that.

"God, Dean. You... _You never called_ ," and the desperation and hurt in Sam's voice almost made Dean crumble. Get on his knees and beg for forgiveness. To have him back.

"Sammy, I-"

"What the fuck, Dean? It's been... It's been _years_ and you _never called me once_!" Sam's voice sounded wet and on the verge of breaking down. And Dean, Dean wasn't sure if he could handle Sam crying. Not when he felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. "You could have. Could have asked me to come back. I would have. You never did. Not _once_. And, I had to move on, Dean. You have to understand I thought you were dead and I had to move on and I love Jess, I love her so goddamn much and we have a family together now, we're expecting a boy and-"

"Sammy, stop." And that one word. That name; it stopped Sam. "I get it. I understand. It's okay," he said and suddenly, Dean's chest didn't ache so much. He wanted to crawl his way into Sam's arms but that wasn't going to happen. He accepted his place. His status in life. He had let him go, so he'd given him up. Dean couldn't ask for him back. "Can I just ask you something?"

"Yeah," Sam said eagerly.

"If I asked for you back, would you come back?" Dean watched there, in Sam's face, as he found his answer. Sam could never leave Jess, but he knew he'd fight it. Sam would do anything to be with Dean, as long as he could have Jess too. He would never leave either of them; Sam would never be so horrible as to abandon either. Not when they loved him so much. "It's okay, you don't have to answer."

"I love you," Sam rushed out and there were tears on his cheeks now. The rush of emotion so strong and thick in his voice. "I fucking love you, Dean. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you and I won't stop. But I can't leave her. She's my best friend and I gotta make her happy. I gotta keep her safe. And she knows. She knows I can never love her like I love you," the tears were freely coming now and Dean realized it was probably never going to stop. His throat was clenched shut with pain. "But I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

There was a tense silence. Of Sam crying and Dean twitching with the need to close the distance. To hold his little brother close to his chest and kiss away his tears. It was his job to keep him safe and look after him. And by not reaching out, by not touching him, by not begging him to come back; he was doing just that. He was letting him go.

It was another minute before he nodded and cleared his throat, finding the energy in him to speak again, "I wish you the best of luck. Send Bobby pictures of the baby, I'll get them," he said as he nodded again and turned around, making his way carefully down the deadly steps.

"Dean," Sam called and Dean paused, turning his head to see his brother smiling so wide it probably hurt his face. "I love you, Dean."

"Get inside, Sammy. It's cold," he got out gruffly, refusing to say the words. Knowing if he did, he wouldn't stop himself. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Dean. See you soon," he said and Dean waved a hand over his head and made his way back over to Baby before he turned around at the last second to see Sam closing the door, before he whispered,

"I love you, too, Sammy."


End file.
